


The Fall into Darkness

by AmbrosiaOfStories



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Black Hat is an Evil Gentleman, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, But like he's also horrible, Dubious Consent, F/M, Female Protagonist, Female Reader, Minor Character Death, Reader is an Umbra Witch, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Suggestive Themes, Threats of Violence, Umbra Witch, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17718380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbrosiaOfStories/pseuds/AmbrosiaOfStories
Summary: You would consider yourself an average person. You milled around with the masses day to day, a face among many in a sea of people. You wished for a charmed, simple, comfortable life; and perhaps getting your work noticed by a good paying organization due to your talent of constructing machinery. However, you do get noticed… in the worst possibly way. Especially, when He finds out about your complicated past and exactly what you are. What are you to do?





	The Fall into Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> So like... this is my first Villainous fanfiction. I don't know if I'm good, and I hope that I portrayed Black Hat like he is in the canon version, but... eh?
> 
> But I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Inspriation: "An Unusual Exchange" by GoldTrimmedSpectacles

…

 

Chapter One: _Scarlet Day, Sunny Night_

 

…

 

Tinkering and light clattering noises filled the room as the sun waned with the ticking of time. Deft, careful, and slim hands worked slowly yet meticulously at their task, making sure to thoroughly go over each procedure with the upmost care. Decked out in thick, rubbery hardware gloves that protected your hands as they welded two wires together with caution. It was a Saturday, and like most Saturdays you spent your time doing leisure activities such as taking walks to clear your mind, watching TV and lazing about, or creating mechanical devices like you were doing now.

 

You did have a Doctorate in Mechanical Engineering and Quantum Physics after all… With a minor in Art.

 

You sighed as your welding was completed, running your gloved hands over the thick wires that ran into your “little” project. You had been working on this thing for months now, almost a full-year if you were generous, and its progress was growing at a rapid rate. You were proud of yourself for how quickly you were progressing, yet at the same time skeptical because you didn’t know if this project of yours would be faulty or not. It’s best to take things slow in dealing with the creation of extensive machinery like yours; time is money, but time is _quality_ as well.

 

You wanted everything to be perfect: the programs running smoothly, the computations and equations exact, and the machine itself operating at full and stable capacity. The reason why was because you were going to submit two of your inventions to the local Hero Organization for them to determine the quality of your work. They paid good money, and treated their employees well. If you were lucky, you would be hired as one of their many scientists in creating interesting gadgets and gizmos for superheroes in their fight against villainy.

 

However, you weren’t particular to helping superheroes. If you had it your way, you would like to help protect the citizens and cities themselves. There were many advertisements for inventions for enhancing a superhero’s power, or debilitating machines for villains to capitalize on; but there was little, next to nothing, for an average civilian like yourself. It was such an apparent problem area, despite not being covered in any news outlets whatsoever. Being someone with no power, mutations, or machines to protect oneself, the common man had to rely on someone who had that. And most of the times, accidents do happen between villains’ tirades and heroes’ fault. And almost always, it leads to the death of an innocent.

 

Living in SuitCity, where battles happen as frequently as the common cold between a villain and a hero, you were used to seeing destruction and death on a large scale. It was not an ideal situation to be used to, but you couldn’t control what happened.

 

So, you thought, if you couldn’t control the battle, maybe you could help control one’s safety?

 

You wanted the civilians of SuitCity, Hatsville, the Button Providence, and many more places to be safer from the altercations between the forces of both good and evil. That’s why you wanted to enter and possibly work for the Hero Organization. If you’re lucky, you would be transferred over to the _Civilities Affair Unit_ where you would work alongside others in regulating damage control of the masses whenever a fight breaks out between a hero and a villain. There, you hoped to see your inventions thrive.

 

“Okay…” You breathed, gathering up some scattered papers and blueprints on the table next to you. “Let’s go over those equations one more time.” Your eyes combed over the contents on the sheets with vigor, relegating your attentions entirely on the information in front of you. A few drawings here and there, and you would frequently change your attentions from the paper to the machinery in front of you. The tightening of screws here, the hammering of metal there, and the straightening of wires everywhere.

 

You smiled as everything seemed to be in order, for now at least, and you ran a hand over your project’s metallic cranium. “You’re filling out so nicely, G3N3515.” You let out an unattractive snort as your smile grew bigger. “Or should I just call you, “Genesis”? Ha! You are the first of your kind, so it’s only right.” You picked up “Genesis’” mechanical hands and tugged on the metallic phalanges to test their tightness.

 

Yes, you were creating an artificial intelligence, most commonly known as a robot.

 

It was something that you dreamed of as a kid, having a knack for science (unsurprisingly) at a young age, building a robot and making it your friend as you went on wacky and zany adventures. It was a dream of yours, and even now you wished for it to come true.

 

However, it wasn’t as if you hadn’t created robots before, you had made smaller prototypes that resembled animals most of the time. Sometimes you would even let them roam around your house to test their coordination and navigational skills, and from time to time you would fix them up if they were sluggish or had loosened joints.

 

But this project you were working on, Genesis, she was special.

 

You wanted something bigger, something better, something that would be a staple of mechanical history. Genesis was going to be a medicinal and health-based artificial intelligence with light-combat additives, so she wouldn’t be completely defenseless. Her prime directive was “healing” and she would have the knowledge and skill like that of a veteran Health Professionalist and/or Doctor. You made it so that her composition was lighter than most so that her speed would increase to get her or others out of tight situations. And you wanted her combat style to be quick and precise, going into altercations for the sole reason of finishing it as fast as possible.

 

Perhaps you would base it around assassination-type techniques…?

 

You shook your head at the thought, resuming your tightening of screws and wires along Genesis’ legs. “…If I did make her assassination-based, then I would have to dull her weapons enough for the enemy to be incapacitated, and _only_ that.” You muttered to yourself.

 

Now usually, in today’s day and age, the construction of a robot would most definitely take three or four months, no matter the size or definition. Especially in a world were people can inherit mutagens that can severely change their DNA without fatal health complications, or how monsters roamed alongside humans and mutants with no problems.

 

Even moreso with you living in SuitCity, a city riddled with superheroes, villains, and the like.

 

But you had decided to give Genesis a few extra “additions”, if you will.

 

You had decided that you wanted Genesis to morph into two forms, one form smaller and compact for health-based reasons, and the other taller— _leaner_ —for strictly combat purposes.

 

Her smaller form would be cutesy, designed to put people at ease as she healed them, and appeal to the general masses commercially. Her designs would be similar to that of a woman’s restroom sign, but much smaller. As tall as a small child. She would have a single, big, robotic eye that would accost for most of her face with two thick, rectangular antennae sticking straight up on her head. She would move around by having a single metallic leg, with a rotary wheel, and her arms would be noodle-ish and flexible. Instead of claws for hands, she would have round, rubbery phalanges that would be as small as a toddlers’, adding onto her cutesy affect.

 

Her combat form, the one she was in now as you worked on her, would be much more menacing. In this form she was tall, much taller than you—a woman of slightly above average height—and her body type was slightly curvaceous to give her that human _femme fatale_ design that you were hoping for. Her mechanical legs were thicker, harder for striking the enemy with crushing blows in hand-to-hand combat. Her arms, human-like, had small fins jutting out from her elbows, allowing for a quick transition for her blades that would be used for piercing and assassination-type attacks. Her hands, which had long thin claws, were perfect for swiping and secreting a parasitic poison—non-lethal of course—that with one hit, would subdue an enemy for capture. Her face was still taken up largely by her robotic eye, and her antennae rarely changed, if only getting a little longer. You finished her off with heeled feet, to further womanize your artificial intelligence.

 

“I think that after I’m done with you,” you grunted as struggled to shift the robot over into a lying position. Even if Genesis was made out of material lighter than most robots, she was still heavy. “I’ll paint you a nice magenta color. How’s that sound?” The robot didn’t respond, as you expected, but you talked to her anyway.

 

After about another half-hour of fine-tuning your robotic masterpiece, you turned your attention to your second little project. The one that you would submit alongside Genesis. It was a prototype that was centered around your research of the vacuums of space and particle manifestation.

 

You had created a portable forcefield.

 

Your work was most likely ten years ahead of its time, as forcefield manifestation needed a lot of gamma radiation and molecular resonance and were most commonly generated by large, tightly welded machinery. But you had figured out a way to alter the molecular structure that a forcefield generates itself and have utilized high kinetic energy and density to condense said forcefield into an impressively small precipice. All while maintaining its consistency and foregoing harm to the caster by linking the molarity of the device with the biosignature of said caster.

 

However, you digress.

 

You whistled a merry tune as you thumbed the thin, poker-chip shaped device in your hands. Its outer design a creamy sky-blue while the inner was bleached white, you likened the design to being hero-based.

 

You pressed the middle of the device with your thumb, and you watched as the chip split apart and extended horizontally, the metal in its insides forming a smooth circular shape. The device pulsed twice before a surge of particle matter washed over you, a dome of violet gamma rays encasing you that spanned to three meters.

 

You hummed as you jotted a few notes down from the display. “Stabilization seems fair, and the prototype’s performance ran smoothly… Might have to make a few tweaks to speed up its reaction time. It needs to be a little faster…” You mumbled under your breath as the scratching of your pen on paper filled the room.

 

You had a lot to work on.

 

* * *

 

 

You groaned as you stretched out your back, hearing the pops of your vertebrae as they were set back into place. You had spent half of the day tinkering away in your little workshop—you didn’t call it a lab, it sounded too callous—much longer than you had intended. But it was spent in wondrous productivity as you had new ideas on what you might add to your forcefield prototype.

 

You had also decided to make another one just in case your future enhancements failed with the first. Unlike Genesis, these inventions took you about 3 or 4 hours to make.

 

Originally, you had designed these forcefields to protect citizens and deflect attacks (but at a much shorter range). These new versions however—as they bounced around in your mind—would protect citizens, of course, but they could actually **_absorb_** the energy from harmful attacks and the particles from said attack could be transferred and converted into other forms of energy. This energy could then be coded into other weapons in the vicinity and used as a firearm, however you still had to work out the kinks with this solution.

 

However, because of these new modifications it could fundamentally save nearby heroes, protect citizens, and cut down property damage during battles! It was such a “diamond-in-the-rough” analogy that you couldn’t help but chuckle.

 

You were glad that you wrote down these ideas and couldn’t wait to test them out when you got back home.

 

The cool autumn breeze ruffled your long hair, making you pull your burgundy scarf over your mouth to give your face a semblance of warmth. The cold front was an ever-present reminder that the warmth and heat of summer had passed and that winter would be coming soon. You were wearing a thick white long-sleeved turtleneck, some dark-washed jeans with black sneakers, and a brown woolly jacket. A red bandanna was tied on your head like a headband, its color complimenting your dark-colored scarf. Despite your plain outfit, you had a rather curvaceous figure, many of your friends saying they would kill to have an “hour-glass-figure” like yours. You didn’t think much of it, as most of the times you wore baggy clothing, hiding away your body from the world.

 

You didn’t like to flaunt yourself like other women did, you preferred flaunting your intelligence instead of your hips.

 

You huffed as you hoisted up the plastic bags that you were carrying. Your fridge was looking a little empty as you forgot to buy groceries last week, as you had a bit more clients than usual that week being an art therapist and all.

 

You sneezed as a particularly sharp wind whipped past you. Geez, you hoped you weren’t running a cold, that would suck! You had one of your regulars, a sweet teen by the name of Gabriella, that would be coming in on Monday for one of her usual sessions. The poor thing was suffering from a terrible case of depression, and when you first met her, she had severe suicidal tendencies. Cut marks on her wrists and arms, chronic pessimism, and severe social anxiety. She was a tough nut to crack, huddling in on herself and refusing to talk for the first few weeks, but you didn’t give up on her. As time flew by between you two: you being understanding and patient, giving her space and freedom to draw or paint what she wanted, and generally talking and listening to one another; she began to open up more.

 

You, being the overachiever that you were, had even had outings with her and her family outside of work. She was your favorite client out of them all, and on Monday you wanted to try a new activity for her session that would be fun for the both of you.

 

And it involved **_a lot_** of paint.

 

You let out a deep sigh as you continued to trudge forward, leaves crunching underfoot as you walked along the concrete pavement. You glanced up at the sky to view some of the meandering advertisements that always flashed brightly to persuade the public to buy their wares.

 

You didn’t expect to see the sky to be ashy black, nor the jumbotron billboard to groan and plummet to the ground as its support beams gave way with a sickening _snap_.

 

Your heart lurched in your throat.

 

You let out a shrill scream as the ground rocked and thundered once the megaton television hit the pavement, your voice among many as people panicked and ran like headless chickens. Your footing was lost and you tumbled on your behind, your most fragile groceries ruined and un-salvageable. The wailing and flashing lights of nearby ambulance and authorities banging in your eardrums and barely drowning out the cries and sobs of panic amongst the masses. You quickly got up as people began to push, shove, and trample over each other in their haste to get away. Even though you couldn’t blame them for pushing past you, trying to save their own skin, you still did not wish to be a willing doormat in their flight to safety.

 

You heard a loud sobbing somewhere, even with the combined noises of both the people and the authorities, and it seemed to be growing fainter by the second. Your frantic eyes whipped around trying to find it and widened once you realized that it was coming from the danger zone where a hero and villain were most likely duking it out.

 

You hesitated.

 

You knew that someone, somewhere, was trapped and in pain. And if they continued to lay trapped, they were going to die. But at the same time, you wanted to be selfish and hold onto your life. There were many things that you haven’t done, seen, or invented yet. But…

 

You groaned before you plunged ahead, running towards the danger, towards the sobs. If you wanted your dream to be realized, then you were going to have to sacrifice for it.

 

Even if it meant your life.

 

You shoved and pushed past people, yelling apologies if you were rough with them yet still ran as fast as you could. Some of them yelled for you to turn back, saying that you were crazy to run towards the danger. Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. But you were damn well going to find out.

 

A garbled scream caught your attention and your eyes drew away from the increasing damage and devastation as you went further towards the fight, to catch the sight of a sobbing little girl under a dangerous cage of copper wiring, concave gravel, and concrete.

 

It seemed like it would give out any second.

 

You cursed under your breath as you hurried over to her, and her crying grew louder once she caught sight of you. Your heart wrenched in pain as you had never seen such desperation, such terror, on another human being’s face. And the fact that she was just a little girl, probably no more than eight, hurt you even more.

 

“I-It’s ok, you’re going to be okay.” You shushed the girl, using your “therapy” voice. She just continued to wail and claw desperately at her horrid cage, reaching out for you. You obliged her and held her hand.

 

“M-Mommy…!” She sobbed. “I w-want my Mommy!”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you to your Mommy ok? For now, breathe slowly or you might hurt yourself even more okay sweetie?” The little girl’s sobs quieted for a bit but she nodded regardless.

 

Getting a good look at her you could see a nasty scar running over the right side of her face, her eye having caught the blunt of a metal pipe as blood welled up and seeped onto the pores of her skin. The loose structure seemed to be pinning her to the ground with her leg sticking out in an awkward position, and you could see a chunk of her leg had been eaten away from some sort of pole.

 

You winced. She would definitely have some extensive surgery if you both ever made it out of this.

 

You made haste as you began to move the gravel off of her, your nails digging into the gravel and breaking, but you didn’t care. You grunted as you slammed your shoulder against some of the larger pieces of stone trapping her, no doubt receiving scratches and bruises for all of your trouble. Just when you had finally cleared away most of the gravel to begin freeing the other side of her, the ground rocked yet again as another attack was dished out.

 

The girl yelped as you covered your body over hers, gritting your teeth as more stone and gravel pelted around you, some crashing against your back making you groan in pain. You apologized to the child, you most likely aggravated her wounds with your act of heroism, and you quickly looked up to assess the damage.

 

Fire. _Fire everywhere_.

 

The ruined infrastructure that the two of you were currently under was set ablaze in crimson fire, you watched in horror as the flimsy wiring that held up the blasted thing began to melt and unravel. Loosening the hold that they had on the building with each passing second.

 

You had to get out. **_Now_**.

 

You moved double time, adrenaline pumping in your veins, as your second wind fueled your actions. You would apologize if you made the girl scream and sob as you moved rocks off of her, but you had to get out if you wanted to survive. Thick and heavy smoke filled your lungs as the fire spread and burned the hazardous material around you. You ripped off your bandanna and securely wrapped it around the little girl’s nose and mouth to somewhat filter the deadly smog.

 

She’s been through enough, you thought.

 

As you removed the final slab of concrete, accidentally cutting yourself along the sharp wiring, you quickly yet carefully picked up the child—using your jacket as a makeshift security blanket. She held onto you like a lifeline, nearly suffocating you as she fasted her arms tightly around your neck, and you cooed words of relief and praise for her bravery.

 

A worrisome _crack_ sound interrupted you both, and you looked up to see the building breaking and cracking at the seams. Horrifying groaning noises filled your ears, and you didn’t stick around to find out where it was coming from as you booked it with the girl in your arms. Blood pumped in your ears along with her screams, and you held fast to her trying to reduce as much bouncing as you could to not further aggravate her wounds. Thundering and rumbling behind you, aged dust filled the air, and shards of glass and other materials crashed as soon as they made contact with the ground.

 

You ran, and ran, and ran, and didn’t look back until you felt you were safe.

 

Eventually, you gradually stopped, your breath running ragged as if you had run a marathon. Perhaps you did, you didn’t know nor cared. All you cared about was that you and the girl was safe. You looked down at her and noticed that she was still sobbing and her grip on you had not lessened. You looked back to where you had come from. Everything was buried underground and the infernos only seemed to spread more; however, you were far enough to not worry about it for some time.

 

You shivered and perked up when the girl gave out a yelp in pain. Her leg was still bleeding, and in copious amounts.

 

She would bleed out if you didn’t find something to cover it.

 

You looked around frantically for an adhesive, your bandanna was too thin and she was using it as a face-mask anyway. You sighed in relief when you noticed a tattered piece of cloth on the ground near a ruined grocery store. You wondered if that was the same store where you had bought your groceries. You couldn’t tell since the building was damaged beyond repair.

 

You bent down and managed to tie the thick cloth on the girl’s leg, ignoring the flash of flesh and bone you saw, as you juggled with your task and holding her. She would not let you go no matter how soothing your words were. You hoped that she wouldn’t develop PTSD from this experience, but that was wishful thinking.

 

After your makeshift first-aid, you continued forth where you thought where civilization was. Ignoring the devastation, ignoring the destruction, and ignoring the corpses that were littered around you. This situation seemed like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie, and if it weren’t for that fact that you were in the thick of it, you would’ve laughed.

 

“My _dearest_ Anastasia,” a horribly raspy voice mocked from the shadows that surrounded you and your living cargo. “It appears that we have accosted to that of a _stalemate_ , haven’t we?” A towering silhouette emerged from the thick, deadly smog and you felt your stomach drop down to your toes as a dark grey entity appeared. Its snake-ish eyes gleaming with a nigh homicidal, psychotic emotion.

 

Your heart galloped doubly with your mounting terror.

 

_You had thought that he was retired!_

 

Standing mere feet away was the infamous, and notorious Black Hat, the most feared villain that any civilian, hero, _and_ villain has ever had the dissatisfaction of meeting. A glowing, ominous grin decorated his grey-skinned features, his green serrated teeth putting you on **_extreme_** edge. His lengthy black waistcoat was as preened as ever, despite the heinous amount of smoke and dust in the air, and his shoes shinned in the scarlet lighting of the fires around them. They looked as if they had been recently polished. His dark eyes were taunting as they perused over the scenery before they settled on you and your straggler. Your hands tightened around the girl, holding her head to your chest as his eyes seemed to widened either from surprise or excitement you did not know.

 

You hoped it wasn’t the latter, cause if it was, then you were going to have a difficult time getting away from him.

 

You remained completely still as you seemed to have a stare down with a villain of all things—especially the most dangerous villain of the **_entire goddamn world_** —not making a move even as one of his _extremely_ long eyebrows raised in question.

 

“I-I’m sorry, but it seems that you have the wrong person.”

 

Black Hat seemed a little surprised at your casual, if polite, response. Even you were surprised at the _utter audacity of your mouth saying words to a **villain** of all things_, but perhaps it was your adrenaline talking. You jolted as the little girl in your arms squeezed at your neck, bringing you back to your primary reason on why you were here in the first place. You took a step forward cautiously, and when the eldritch didn’t make a move (he just seemed to frown at you in annoyance), you continued forward with a slow yet purposeful stride.

 

Black Hat remained still during your approach, only moving to lean on his cane, causing your fingers to twitch and feeling for your prototype in the inner pockets of your jacket that you had covered the child with. “I can very well see that, you cretin.” He scoffed.

 

_Well fuck you too, Black Hat._

 

Even though your throat coiled up like a rattlesnake at the gravelly yet menacingly sharp voice as you turned towards the demon, you couldn’t help but give a soft, indignant huff at his comment. You didn’t take well to insults and by the wicked grin that stretched along his face in amusement, he seemed to realize that as well.

 

Gripping the small disk in your hand you regarded him for a moment before you tossed it towards him. Much to your surprise the demon caught it even though he was frowning down at your gift in displeasure. “Take that as appreciation, for not killing us.” When you saw his fingers tighten around the disk, almost as if he intended to crush it, you spoke out yet again. “And I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The magnetic field of the forcefield will backfire and flatten you without proper activation. Even if you _are_ a demon.”

 

The eldritch seemed almost impressed by the revelation, however there was still a heavy air of doubt about him.

 

“Pushing the middle activates a forcefield that will appear in mere seconds.” Your anxiety heightened the longer you were in the villain’s presence, and you gently cooed the girl in your arms as she sniffled into your chest. “You can use it to protect others if you need to…” You needed to leave, whether it was trying to hold a conversation with _Black Hat_ to stop him from possibly attacking you, or the fact that the little girl was beginning to tire from blood loss, you had no idea. But both situations seemed very plausible at the moment.

 

“So, yeah…” You sent a strained smile Black Hat’s way, “Have a nice day, I suppose?” Hoisting the girl in your arms once more, you quickly exited through the smoke towards the somewhat stable atmosphere of civilization. The girl uttered out a jumble of words and gibberish, but you patted and rubbed her back soothingly, making promises of reuniting her with her mother again. You sighed in relief when you didn’t hear the demon making any movements to attack you.

 

Once in good company, the girl was reunited with her mother as promised. The woman wouldn’t stop thanking you over and over for saving her daughter—her name was Anna, you learned—even putting you in a death hug that put bears to shame. You laughed it off saying that you thought that it was only right, and you would hate yourself for not at least trying to save her. She continued to thank you as her wails and her daughters melded together before they were wheeled off to the hospital to treat her wounds. You were also abruptly carted off to the hospital, your hands and arms being dressed before swapping out your clothes with the standard hospital gown.

 

As you watched the IV slowly drip into your bloodstream, you didn’t even realize that you injured yourself to this extent until your adrenaline finally shutdown. Apparently, you had dislocated your left shoulder, twisted your right ankle, and needed stitches on your back for all of the debris that fell on you when you protected Anna by shielding her with your body.

 

As the morphine kicked in, putting you into a sluggish state, you replayed the events that happened to you today. Overall you saved a little girl, had a mostly one-sided conversation with a supervillain and gave said villain a prototype of a portable forcefield that you had been tirelessly working on.

 

And all of this started because you wanted to buy groceries. _Which you still didn’t have_. You sighed in annoyance.

 

You huffed as the stiff hospital sheets shifted uncomfortably against your bruised skin, the comforter did little to comfort you as it only succeeded in getting you a possible rash from how itchy it was. You let out a sigh, a strand of your hair flying in your face as you stared up at the white-washed ceiling, lamenting your pain and your situation in being in a hospital.

 

You were bored.

 

And thirsty.

 

You wondered if they had a refreshing glass of lemonade?

 

You were really craving it for some reason.

 

You smiled at the amusing thought. The hospital had been generous enough to call your workplace to explain the situation, so you couldn’t complain much or use the excuse of work to leave the whited-out room. You perked up as you heard a groan before the squeaking of wheels caught your attention. You saw an elderly nurse woman—decked out in the mandatory pale blue scrubs—cart in a tray of food and she gave you a motherly smile as she came in. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, also realizing how devastatingly hungry you were. The nurse smiled at you with humor in her wizened eyes.

 

“Hungry dear?” She chuckled.

 

“Starving.” Your stomach grumbled loudly in agreement.

 

She merely shook her head in amusement before carefully placing your tray on the bed, sitting on the portable table. The meal was meager at best: a sirloin steak oozing with gravy, some mashed potatoes sitting as a moderate mountain on the side, and some corn and broccoli huddle together to complete the dish.

 

The nurse left the remote to the television in your room on the counter-space beside your bed, before she bid you farewell as she tugged the cart out of the room. You grabbed the remote, making sure to grab it with your right arm, and pressed “power” to turn the screen on.

 

You flicked through the channels boorishly, absentmindedly chewing on your meal as you did so (you cringed at how cold the mashed potatoes were), before the monotone voice of a newswoman caught your attentions.

_“…It seems as though **Anastasia** , the elemental-based superhero, has passed away in her fight against the nefarious Black Hat.”_ You coughed abruptly as a piece of your meal went down the wrong pathway. _“Anastasia was an upcoming superhero, having spent three years under the Hero Organization’s program, before taking on missions so early in her hero-ing life. She was one of the youngest and most powerful heroes to graduate so early from her training, breaking through previous records up-holded by the organization’s records.”_

 

Yeesh, from that information alone you knew that the Hero Organization was hurting. Probably not in an emotional way, but in an imagery sort of way. Although you couldn’t blame them, this was _Black Hat_ after all.

 

 _“…Her true name was Daphne Button, the eldest daughter of the Button Family who owns the “Buttons, Crafts, and Works” Business in downtown SuitCity. The family has asked for privacy as they mourn their daughter’s loss and to refrain from—!”_ You turned off the television.

 

If the public truly cared about the family’s askance for privacy, then they wouldn’t have it broadcasted all over the damn news. You absolutely hated the shallowness of humans sometimes.

 

You blinked as you felt a familiar, yet surprising presence in your psyche. Your skin prickled as you felt the unexpected presence roll itself throughout your body, taunting your entire being with chaotic yet controlled power.

 

You sighed. Well she was here earlier than expected.

 

“What do you want? I thought we had a deal?” You groused under your breath. Continuing to eat your cold meal.

 

A husky, breathy chuckle was your response; its feminine voice echoing throughout your skull like the chiming of a bell. **_“Indeed, we did. However, it has come to my attention that my reckless mistress has gotten herself in trouble. How pathetic.”_**

 

You glared at nothing as you stabbed into your steak. “Hey, watch it. I’m not in the mood for your banter, _Madame Butterfly_.”

 

The newly identified Madame Butterfly made a noise similar to a pout, but you knew better. You knew that she was just playing in jest. She was always a trickster that one. **_“How boring. But I wanted to know when you were going to stop playing this disgusting goody-two-shoes act of yours to appeal to those pathetic insects? Restricting yourself is never good, especially for one such as you, my mistress."_** She gave an airy giggle, like that of a school girl chatting about her crush. **_“I can only keep the others at bay for so long, you know.”_**

 

You finished up your meal and set it aside on the cart to your right. The nurses were usually on time to cart things away once lunch ended. You sighed—you were doing that a lot lately—before you ran your hand into your messy hair. Ever since you were stuck in this place, you never had a chance to straighten it out much to your annoyance.

 

“Tell them they will do as I say if they know what’s _good for them_.” Your eyes narrowed as you thought of your more… _rambunctious_ servants. “As for your question, it is the only way for me to properly relegate myself into human society without question. They do not know of my kind, and humans are prone to judge without proper credence after all.”

 

**_“Worthless, the lot of them.”_ **

 

You smiled. “Well, not all. I am fond of the children after all.” Madame scoffed, probably lamenting about your unnecessary soft spot for kids. “However, it seems that I will have to stop “appealing to those disgusting insects” as you say. I’ve encountered Black Hat.”

 

Your partner went silent. Madame Butterfly was a demoness straight from hell. She was apart of the upper echelon of demons since she had exceptional cognitive thought, speech, and power that most other demons of hell. She was truly apart of the one percent, and for someone of your kind to form a partnership with someone like her, was nothing short of a miracle.

 

She was very particular with forming bonds, and her contracts was always draining of power and hard to follow through. But you succeeded, somehow.

 

So, it was of no surprise that she knew of someone, or something like Black Hat. You always had your suspicions about the eldritch, however you wanted nothing to do with him. And with good reason. Even someone like you, who has partnerships and contracts with demons of how powers and abilities, you knew that you would be no match for Black Hat.

 

You had a feeling that he was something… _more_ than what he is. Something not right. Something to take _extreme_ caution of and be fearful.

 

So, you went out of your way to avoid him.

 

You tempered your powers, aura, and anything relating to your kind with the utmost restraint. And until you felt that you were on par with that of an average human female, were you finally satisfied. So far it worked, you’ve been living under the radar in SuitCity for about three years now without any extended contact with heroes, villains, or even those from your kind.

 

However, all good things must come to an end eventually.

 

 ** _“My my~”_** Madame suddenly spoke, jolting you out of your buzzing thoughts. **_“How… unfortunate."_** You knew that she held no pity for your situation. Hell, she sounded downright amused!

 

You grumbled in irritation, cozying up in your thin blankets, as you listened to Madame Butterfly laugh at your misfortune.

 

You were too tired for this shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh ho ho~ Looks like there is more to you that what is seems! However, it looks like a certain someone realizes that too, much to your dismay. As their is plotting in the darkness, can you be able to keep your stable life from collapsing in flames? Also, what about your appointment with dearest Gabriella?
> 
> Curiouser, yet curiouser.


End file.
